"I think you might be able to land yourself a big order." Rhys shared his idea with Helga.
Azkaban's imprisonment strategy was very simple: let the Dementors feed on the prisoners' happiness, keeping them in a half-mad state so that their ability to act was greatly weakened.
No matter how powerful a wizard was, after being thrown into Azkaban for some time, their spirit would collapse. A wizard whose mind had withered and who had been stripped of their wand could never possibly escape from Azkaban.
The reduction in the number of Dementors did indeed pose a risk of weakening Azkaban's guard. This meant additional watchers were needed. But since Dementors could not reproduce, and ordinary wizards would never be willing to take shifts guarding Azkaban, the issue became a dead end.
But if they broadened their thinking—why must wizards themselves be sent to strengthen Azkaban's defenses?
Standing right beside him, Helga was highly skilled in creating alchemical golems, was she not?
"Interesting…" Helga murmured thoughtfully after hearing Rhys's idea.
She could indeed produce a batch of golems to reinforce Azkaban's defenses. But the question was, how much should she charge the Ministry for them? She had no intention of being treated like a fool again.
When she shared this concern with Salazar, Rhys looked back at her with a bewildered expression: How should I know how much those things are worth?
In the modern wizarding world, alchemical knowledge had regressed considerably, and the market for alchemical constructs was practically non-existent. These things couldn't even be priced—because no one had ever sold them before.
"How about… one thousand Galleons each?"
Rhys gave Helga a look. He didn't think the Ministry of Magic could allocate such a large budget. One at a thousand—ten would already be ten thousand. And how many golems would it take to rearm Azkaban?
Ten? Fifty? Or even a hundred?
"How about this: you sell them a batch of golems at a low price, then make your profit from after-sales service? For example, replenishing their magical energy and such." Rhys offered Helga a suggestion.
Of course, Helga could create those permanent golems with lifespans of over a thousand years, but this model was clearly more profitable.
In the end, Helga accepted Rhys's proposal.
"I'll create a batch of eternal golems, but I'll also place seals on them so that after a period of time they will 'fail.' The methods to restore their power and lift the seals—we'll keep those here at Hogwarts. The Headmaster can pass them down by word of mouth." Helga sought Rhys's approval.
Rhys naturally had no objections. This was good for Hogwarts—Helga had essentially secured another long-term meal ticket for the school.
After the two reached an agreement, Helga decided to put the plan into action.
Just then, the class bell rang. Helga lifted her head with a sigh: "Another class already? This timetable is far too packed…"
The pressure of modern teaching was so great that even Helga sometimes found it difficult to bear.
The school had four Houses, each with seven year levels. Except for sixth and seventh year, the other five years were divided into two classes each, with every class having two lessons per week—adding up, Helga had to teach twenty-two lessons every week, and on top of that, grade homework for students across all seven years!
This workload was far heavier than what she had endured a thousand years ago.
Because of this, she grew even more impressed with Minerva McGonagall—professor of Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor House, and Deputy Headmistress…
Whenever Helga felt too exhausted to face another lesson, she would think of Minerva in her heart, and it would give her the motivation to keep going.
If Minerva can survive it, then of course I can too!
After venting her complaints about the workload, Helga turned her head and noticed that Rhys, who had clearly heard the class bell, showed no intention of moving at all.
She couldn't help but feel curious.
"You don't have a class?"
"Yes."
Helga: ???
"I plan on skipping."
Helga: ???
Before Hufflepuff could even react, Rhys quickly walked out of her line of sight.
It wasn't until Helga entered the classroom and saw that familiar silver hair that she suddenly realized—the old snake was skipping her class!!!
Shock and confusion clashed within Helga's mind, and after a brief moment, transformed into anger—I worked so hard preparing this lesson, Salazar. You'll listen whether you want to or not!
"You all wait here a moment, I'll be right back."
Without a second of hesitation, Hufflepuff turned and left the classroom, then began searching for Rhys. Very quickly, she used magic to lock onto Salazar's position, and in an instant appeared before him.
"Professor White, don't you have a class to attend?" Rhys looked up, startled, and asked.
Helga gave a cold laugh, grabbed Rhys firmly by the shoulder, and made it absolutely clear to him: today, he was going to attend that class.
"Just the one I was waiting for." Saying this, Helga grabbed Rhys from his seat and dragged him to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Under the puzzled gazes of all the students, Rhys calmly and unflinchingly sat down in the empty seat beside Daphne.
"Why are you so late?" Daphne asked in some confusion.
"I got lost. I got lost," Rhys replied with a rather absurd excuse.
If your role in class was to serve as a demonstration tool, you'd want to skip class too, Rhys muttered inwardly.
Daphne gave him a doubtful glance. No matter how she looked at it, it seemed like Rhys had skipped class and been dragged back by Professor White.
Once Rhys entered, the class was finally complete, and Helga began today's lesson. To warm up for their upcoming collaboration, Helga decided to show the students a bit of puppet magic today.
With a flick of her hand, she conjured a half-man-tall puppet and controlled it to walk, run, and jump. It could even cast various spells.
Just as she was about to call Salazar up to the podium to demonstrate the puppet's maximum capabilities, a sudden clamor of footsteps came from outside the classroom.
Dumbledore arrived at the classroom door, leading a large group of parents.
The students inside, hearing the noise, instinctively looked toward the doorway—and then froze in place. Why were their dads and mums at the school?!
Because of the nature of Slytherin House, most of the parents who had come today were parents of Slytherin students, which made the shock all the greater for those present.
Take Malfoy, for instance. He had been leaning sideways in his seat, listening to the lesson in a very casual pose. But when he glanced lazily toward the door, he found himself locking eyes with his own father.
And then he froze stiff.
Under Lucius Malfoy's gaze, Draco slowly straightened himself back around and sat upright in his chair with the most proper posture.
"All right then, Smith, you may continue your lesson." Dumbledore smiled and waved his hand, letting Helga continue teaching. He remained outside the classroom, speaking softly as he introduced to the parents this year's new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
The name Smith White was one many of the parents had already heard of. Seeing the Professor herself today, their curiosity was naturally piqued.
They stood just outside the classroom, quietly sitting in on Helga's lesson.
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